Embraceable You
by Bertie Bott
Summary: "Sometimes life has a way of pulling you to the right path, even if you don't realize that's what's happening at the time…" Steve stumbles across someone who makes sense of the chaos his life has become and gives him new hope. Bella/Captain America. Complete in four parts.
1. Part One: The Diner

**Embraceable You**

**Summary:** "Sometimes life has a way of pulling you to the right path, even if you don't realize that's what's happening at the time…" Steve stumbles across someone who makes sense of the chaos his life has become and gives him new hope. Bella/Captain America. **Complete in three parts.**

**Captain America timeline:** Set after Steve awakens from the ice, but before (and then during) the first Avengers movie.

**Twilight timeline:** New Moon A/U, set a few years later. Bella knows about Victoria, but not the wolves. She never goes to Volterra and Edward never comes back.

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_Part One: The Diner_

He wasn't sure why he kept coming back. Walking the the new streets of the once familiar town - _his town_ \- and being confronted with unfamiliar buildings and people who could hardly be bothered to even nod an acknowledgment when you stopped them from walking into oncoming traffic, was a type of unique torture for Steve. A punishment he couldn't help but deep down feel he deserved. He couldn't help coming back to his hometown while he attempted to adjust to these strange new times, his heart yearning for something - just anything - familiar. Something from home.

You could take the kid outta Brooklyn, but not the Brooklyn outta the kid.

The ghost of his town was the bones of the city he was in, though. Familiar buildings and structures, but no longer occupied by the same businesses or families. Some had been broken down and built back up again, taller and brighter, replacing the old and obsolete.

He felt old and obsolete. And tired. So very tired, even though he'd been asleep - feared going back to sleep - for a long, long time.

Sighing, Steve turned down another street, squinting against the sun as he stared down the block. There - that'd been where the art school he'd been planning on attending had once been. After being denied by the Army so many times, he'd begun to plan his alternatives and had been preparing to apply right after Bucky left for his deployment. Instead, Dr. Erskine had found him - or rather, he'd found Dr. Erskine - and his life started out on the path that led him to where he was now. Seventy years in the future in a city that had once been his home, but now served to remind him of everything he'd lost.

There wasn't an art school there now and he wondered when it'd gone - had they moved? Gone out of business? Had it happened during the war, or the years after?

In its stead was now a diner. When had that gotten there? It had the look of a newly renovated building, the colors bright even in the familiar architecture of the building that had housed his would-be school. In fact, the more he looked at the diner, the more familiar it seemed and his feet started moving towards it before he'd even made the decision to walk.

_The Diner_.

That's all it said in a bright red neon light above a blue awning.

A soda shop, he thought suddenly. It looked like someone had taken a soda shop from his time and plucked it before him.

He entered with only mild hesitation.

The floor was tiled and there were deep red vinyl seats - a jukebox tucked into a corner. The bar was made out of a dark, solid dark wood and polished to a real shine. It had the look of real wood, too, not the fake particle board Steve kept encountering and breaking when he couldn't quite manage to pull back his strength enough. So much of this new time was shiny, but cheap, he'd realised early on. Flimsy and fake.

Faintly, he heard the tickle of piano keys and a voice - a familiar voice - singing.

_"Embrace me, my sweet embraceable you.  
Embrace me, my irreplaceable you._

_Just to look at you, my heart grows tipsy in me.  
You and you alone, bring out the gypsy in me."_

Billie Holiday, he realized. He was listening to the familiar voice of Billie Holiday.

"Hello, welcome to The Diner. How many?"

Steve started. A hostess was standing by a podium, looking at him expectantly.

"Um, me. I mean, one. There's just me."

_I'm all that's left_, he couldn't help the thought.

She smiled, her eyes wandering over him in frank appreciation that he found both flattering and embarrassing. Mostly embarrassing.

"Right this way, party of one," she winked, and Steve followed without thinking, his eyes taking in everything they could.

Black and white photos of musicians he and Bucky used to listen to - crooners, Buck used to call them - hung on the walls. His friend had been a bit of a crooner himself, not with music, but he'd certainly had a way with the ladies that'd have them eating out of his palm as surely as if he'd been a jazz crooner himself.

"Neat, huh?" the hostess asked as she took in how he was observing everything. Instantly, Steve looked down to hide his interest in the hauntingly familiar setting. "A little old fashioned for my tastes, but the photos are vintage. Really adds to the atmosphere."

"Old fashioned. Right," he muttered as he slid into the booth she brought him to.

She placed a menu down in front of him. "You're server will be right with you. Enjoy your meal."

As she walked away, an inviting sway to her hips he easily ignored, he looked around once more and lost himself in the atmosphere.

An older couple sat at a table across the room, their weathered hands gripping the other's as they drank from the same milkshake with two straws. Despite himself, Steve smiled. He'd seen Bucky do that with a dame once, his eyes fixed on hers as she blushed prettily… Crooning to her without the need for music or even words...

Whatever this place was, he decided he liked it.

In another corner was a group of more modern kids. They were rambunctious, almost annoyingly so, and wore torn up jeans with studs and chains. One of the guys even had pink and green hair arranged into long, wicked looking spikes. Another one had a tattoo on the back of his neck - Steve's keen eyesight making out the silhouette of a naked woman.

"Strange, isn't it?" a quiet voice asked.

Once again, he startled and was instantly annoyed with himself. It wasn't like him to be so distracted and unaware of his surroundings.

"Strange?" he asked, turning to the new voice, his eyes instantly widening as his stomach dive-bombed and then promptly rose back up into his throat.

She was beautiful. Heart-stoppingly so. She wore a simple but flattering blue dress with a white apron, and her hair was organized into elegant waves down her back - both of which combined made him think of Judy Garland in _The Wizard of Oz_. Except she was even more beautiful than Dorothy. There was a softness around her eyes, a relaxed air around her posture that made her warm and open. Approachable, he decided. She held all the beauty of the silver screen starlets of his day with the casual friendliness of any girl next door.

A distant part of him realized he was gaping at her and his hands jerked, knocking into the glass of water she had apparently sat down before him and spilling it everywhere.

_Well done, putz_, that distant part of him said, sounding oddly like Bucky.

"Oh gosh, I'm so sorry," the girl - his waitress, he realized - said as if she'd been the klutz. She pulled a rag from her apron and started to mop up the mess.

Jolted into movement again, Steve grabbed a handful of napkins from the dispenser and went to help. "Oh no, please - it was my fault. I'm the one who's sorry."

"Well, no use crying over spilt milk, right?" she smiled, a blush sweeping her cheeks. "Or, err, water in this case." She rolled her eyes at herself, but they were still kind when they focused back on Steve. "Let me take care of those napkins and this rag, and I'll be back with a fresh glass for you."

Thankfully, she grabbed the sopping wet napkins and bundled them up in her rag and was gone before he could embarrass himself further.

Unlike the hostess who sat him, Steve's eyes were unerringly drawn to this girl as she walked away. There was no purposeful sway, just quick and sure steps that took her behind the counter as she grabbed a new glass to fill.

When she came back, she set the water down again and smiled. "There. I'm so sorry for startling you earlier."

"Please, it was my fault," he said again, staring up at her. He must have been a little too fixated because she blushed again and Steve couldn't help the thought that it made her even more lovely.

"It must be your first time here - I know how distracting The Diner can be the first time in. A bit strange as you take it all in."

"Yes, it's all a bit strange," he admitted. _Though probably not for the reasons you had meant_, he silently added.

"Frank - that's the owner - really prides himself on the authenticity. He's named after Sinatra and it shows," she huffed a laugh. "But then you see regular folks come in - like that group you were looking at? With the mohawks and tattoos? Well, it just makes you feel like you've stepped into a world in between times, never completely in one decade or the other. Timeless."

Steve smiled. What she was saying was more true than she could possibly know.

"Exactly," he said. "I wasn't sure what to expect, but it's unlike anything I've ever seen before."

She nodded knowingly. "Most places go the 5 & Diner route, more sock hop and ice cream social, than forties jazz diner. I prefer it here myself, but I suppose I've always been a bit old fashioned…" she trailed off and Steve felt his stomach threatening to choke him again.

"Anyway," she shook her head, brown ringlets flying out and catching the dim diner light. "I'm sorry to keep you waiting - have you decided what you'd like to order?"

Steve smiled dumbly up at her for a moment too long before he remembered the menu in front of him that he'd ignored this whole time. "Oh," he twitched, reaching out to it. "I was a bit too distracted, I'm afraid. I haven't even looked at the menu."

"That's alright," she said. "I could take you through a few of our special if you'd like?"

"Yes ma'am," he said. "That'd be great."

With the ease of one good at their job, she rattled off the specials, but then leaned forward afterwards. "But if you really want to know what I'd recommend," she confided, "Then I'd say try the meat and potato patties. They may not be real fancy, but there's a lot of flavor in them and they're more authentic than the other meals. Hard to go wrong with meat and potatoes, anyway."

"I remember those," he smiled, and while he may have made the motions of the gesture a few times since awakening, he'd never felt he truly meant it until this very day. Until this diner and this woman. "Bucky's mom used to make those for us, back when meat was scarce," he said without thought to how odd it must have sounded. He didn't look nearly old enough to remember the days of meat being rationed and purchased using hard to come by tokens.

"Lots of families who fell on hard times have their own variations of it," she acknowledged. "My gran used to make it for my mom and me, back when she and my dad divorced and we moved back in with her and pop. Times were rough for a bit, but it's sort of a comfort food for me now. And, well, you look like you could use a bit of comfort, if I may say," she said, blushing once more. "I'm sorry, that's really presumptuous of me. I shouldn't have said it and-"

"I'm Steve," he blurted out, sticking out a hand as he rudely cut her off before she could continue down the spiral of self-doubt she seemed inclined to sink into.

_You're just a regular Casanova, aren't you?_ the Bucky voice chided again, sounding far too amused.

"I'm Bell- uh," she coughed lightly. "Sorry. Belle. My name is Belle." Then she reached out and slipped her soft, much smaller hand into his.

And for the first time since they'd pulled him up and out of the ice, Steve felt himself begin to thaw.

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(A/N): Thank you for reading... Part two is complete and will be published in a few days.


	2. Part Two: The Fumble

**(A/N): ****This story is complete and the remaining parts will be uploaded every other day or so. Now four parts, instead of three. For those wondering, _Set My Soul Alight_ update is forthcoming. Thanks for coming back. :)**

**Embraceable You**

_Part Two: The Fumble_

Bit by bit, Steve began to glue back the shattered pieces of his life. They didn't fit the same and the end picture would never be what it once was - and he had no clue how he even wanted his future to take shape now - but he was starting to find some semblance of normalcy.

If a super soldier plucked out of the past and placed into the future could be considered normal, that is.

He struggled more than he'd care to admit. Second guessing had become second nature. On rare occasions he'd interact with people outside of S.H.I.E.L.D. he wondered if his word choice was too polite or his quips too out of date. The looks he'd receive always had him questioning what it was he'd done or said to inspire them. Was it truly that uncommon to say please or thank you now? To hold the door open for whomever was entering behind you as well? When had common courtesy disappeared?

Some things were so ingrained in him that he simply couldn't change. Like the day he'd caught a group of school boys bullying a smaller kid, pushing him around and taunting him. Steve had stepped in without a thought and when the group took in his large arms folded across his broad chest and the sharp glare in his eyes, they'd scattered off like leaves to the wind.

"They meant no harm," one of the other adults nearby had shrugged off the incident. "Boys will be boys."

That concept was entirely foreign to him and one he intrinsically rejected. "Boys will be boys until someone stands up and shows them what it means to be a good man,'" Steve countered.

It troubled him how easily they had written him off when he'd said that.

He felt a bit like a square peg trying to fit in a round hole, but if fitting in meant standing down and staying quiet when he saw something so clearly wrong happening by him… Well then, he'd just stay a square. He'd been called square often enough when he'd been bullied himself, anyways.

_I hate to break it to ya, bud, but you'll always just be a punk kid from Brooklyn, _Bucky had once told him.

That was a good thing, Steve decided. He'd gone through hell and back, but he'd always try to keep the promise he'd made to Dr. Erskine on the eve of his transformation - the very same promise he'd made to himself - to make sure the strength of his heart would always outweigh the strength of the body science had gifted him. He may not know who he was in this new strange and uncertain time, but he knew what he stood for and would start re-building around that. He just wanted to help those who needed helping; help those it was within his power to help.

And something told him the waitress - his sort of almost friend Belle - needed helping.

After finding The Diner, Steve was quick to become a regular - just like the old couple he'd seen his first time there, Mr. and Mrs. Nowak. They were there every Tuesday and Thursday, sitting in Belle's section to split a milkshake, usually vanilla, though sometimes Mrs. Nowak convinced her husband to get the strawberry. Belle always made a big deal when they ordered that, adding a small bowl of fresh strawberries for them at no charge and giggling when Mr. Nowak would playfully grumble at her for 'encouraging' his wife.

Whenever it seemed like it'd been awhile since the coveted strawberry shake had been ordered, Belle would bring out the vanilla with a strawberry stuck to the rim on the glass and set it between the older couple with an innocent owl-eyed look. Mrs. Nowak would fairly cackle when she saw it and without fail, their next visit Mr. Nowak would harrumph and order the strawberry milkshake.

"I tried to suggest a chocolate shake once," Belle had told Steve. "But poor Mr. Nowak is allergic to it and accused me of trying to kill him," she laughed fondly.

Steve came Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturdays. He worried he was becoming somewhat of a nuisance, but Belle always had a big smile for him when she came out and saw him sitting in what was now considered his booth.

They chatted quite a bit, mostly superficial things - did they see the news that morning? How about that weather?

One day, Belle asked, "Who's your favorite author?" while setting down his lunch.

Steve smiled and took a moment to really consider the question while unfolding a napkin to set across his lap.

"I'd have to say Mark Twain," Steve decided, glancing up to see her reaction.

Her smile widened.

"Oh I love Mark Twain," she replied, her eyes bright.

"Huck Finn fan?" he guessed.

"Well, yes, but I mostly enjoy his essays. I love how he uses humor to balance serious points so that when the message hits, it hits hard but doesn't leave you limping. It keeps readers receptive."

His own smile grew. "I agree. I think his writings are timeless."

"I've always been a fan of the classics. I was going to go to school for English, you know? I really love reading," she sighed, staring off out the window.

His smile fell some. Belle sometimes spoke like this - let winsome phrases of _was_ and _should_ fall from her lips, clearly without thought. It saddened him even as it oddly reassured him. He, too, felt the sting of _what might have been_ and in a strange way it made him feel less isolated when she openly displayed casual disappointments without dwelling on them.

But it seemed to Steve that for a young enough gal who often wore her heart on her sleeve, Belle was hiding something. There were times she'd stop mid-sentence, glance to the front and back of the restaurant - towards the entrance and exit, he couldn't help but note - and then abruptly change the subject, or wander off saying something about missing an order.

Perhaps he was projecting, but his instincts said there was something more going on with the happy girl fast becoming his only friend. And Steve's instincts had never really steered him wrong.

"I was going to go to school for art," he said quietly. He hadn't made the decision to say anything at all, but once he muttered it, he felt it was only fair. A confession deserved one in return.

The admission was worth it when Belle snapped out of whatever sad trail of thought had claimed her and focused back on him. "For art?" she asked.

His face twitched something between a smile and grimace. "Yes, art. I quite enjoy it, and I'm fairly decent at it - or so I've been told."

"What happened, then?"

"It hadn't been my first choice, really. As much as I loved it, I was sort of settling for it."

She nodded. "Did you find what you were really meant for, then?"

It was Steve's turn to look off in contemplation, the still too-fresh memories rising up. "I think so. Sometimes life has a way of pulling you to the right path, even if you don't realize that's what's happening at the time."

"I hope you're right," she said, then shook herself and gave him another smile. "So what did you end up going to school for, if you don't mind my asking?"

"I don't mind," he said, absolutely meaning it. "And I didn't go to school at all, not technically."

"Let me guess - military?"

He raised a brow. "That obvious?"

She shrugged. "Well, my dad is a cop and you have that same air of authority around you, but what really cinched it was my Pop-Pop. He served in the Army back in WWII and after my folks split, mom and I moved back in with him and gran. You carry yourself a lot like him - formal, polite, but also direct and firm. Some of his old war buddies that used to visit were the same. Figured it's a military thing."

"Huh," he said.

"Oh, I'm sorry," she jumped. "Here I am talking your ear off while your food is getting cold. Please, eat up and let me know if I can get you anything else, Steve."

"It's fine, Belle. I like talking with you," he told her, fighting the urge to fidget with the napkin in his lap.

She'd already taken a step away, but stopped and turned back around. Her cheeks were tinted a tempting red that had Steve fighting back a smile. And he thought _he_ embarrassed easily. "I like talking with you too, Steve," she said, smiling before she hurriedly turned back around and shuffled away.

He was thankful for that because his own cheeks heated up in response.

Things continued on in that vein for several weeks. Steve's life settled into a routine of classes S.H.I.E.L.D. organized on his behalf to get him up to date, and lunches at The Diner, where Belle unknowingly did more than anyone else to help settle him into modern times.

There was a truism claiming that the more things changed, the more they stayed the same. Steve never felt the weight of that truth more than in his growing, bumbling friendship with Belle.

He'd always been hopeless with the dames and Belle sure was no different.

_You're smitten_, he told himself. There was no use denying it. As the weeks went by and Steve got to know her better, it was hard not to fall for the shy, but kind waitress. She was unlike any dame he'd ever met.

Even Peggy.

It was hard not to compare the two, especially at first, though he felt the lowest of low whenever he did. It'd felt like a betrayal of sorts, to one woman at first, and then the other as he grew closer to Belle. Peggy had been a force of nature in his life - strong, confident, and so very brave. Their relationship had been one of possibilities, more than true romance. That conclusion had come to him over time and he'd finally accepted that while he would always have a deep fondness for her, it was for that of a beloved friend and not a lover.

She was nothing more than a missed opportunity for something potentially big. Life, though, had other plans for them both. Now, there was a new opportunity before him. One he wanted to grasp with both hands, but he just couldn't figure out _how_ to go about it.

How he wished Bucky was there... Sure, he'd have a good laugh at Steve's expense, but he'd also know what to do.

_You just gotta believe in yourself, kid_, he'd say and then he'd push him off to face Belle and watch him flounder.

Which was pretty much what he'd been doing the past couple weeks - floundering in his attempts to gauge her interest and express his own. It didn't help that Belle seemed just as clueless as he was and was completely oblivious as he stepped over himself trying to ask her out.

Even the Nowaks had noticed his bumbling attempts, much to his mortification.

"You're a bit clueless, aren't you dear boy," Mrs. Nowak had stopped by his table one day to say. "Well, at least you're easy on the eyes," she patted his hand.

"Has the good sense to see a good thing too," Mr. Nowak eyed him sharply. "Maybe try asking if she wants to share a milkshake."

How he wished the floor would open up and swallow him whole.

The next day was a Wednesday. Belle usually spent her Wednesdays at the library in NYC, finding new books for herself while also volunteering for the children's story hour. She'd asked, smiling a little unsurely and looking so damn beautiful it damn near hurt his eyes, if he'd wanted to come with her, but the question hadn't truly registered over the mortification still resonating from Mr. and Mrs. Nowak's parting words. He'd declined, saying he had a meeting - which had been half true since Steve still had a few more S.H.I.E.L.D. approved history classes that he took several days a week, Wednesdays included.

"Oh," her smile had dropped before she gamely tried to pull it back up. "Well, maybe next time then. Have a good weekend, Steve," she said, laying his bill flat down on the table and walking away before he could process what had just happened.

_You're an idiot_, the Bucky voice told him. _A real putz_.

He waited for Belle to come back out, but she must have decided to take a break or possibly even leave early. He'd embarrassed her, he realized, feeling ashamed of himself. She'd gone out on a limb and he'd left her hanging. It was very poor form on his part.

Eventually, he decided a retreat was in order. He'd come back Saturday like usual, and he'd fix things - he'd not only tell her how much he'd love to spend Wednesday afternoon with her, but he'd also finally tell her the truth about himself.

He'd tell her about Captain America and the ice, and maybe if he was lucky, she'd still want him around. Maybe she'd even tell him some of her own secrets.

It was a plan - a good one even - except, things rarely went according to plan. Not for Steve Rogers.

The next day had Steve taking his frustrations out on an unsuspecting punching bag at a boxing gym a couple blocks away. Fury had found him there, telling him about Loki and the tesseract... And Steve, well, he did what he always did - what he would always do when called upon to help. He found himself unceremoniously dumped right in the middle of a new battle no one could afford for him to lose.

He was strong enough to fight the wars others couldn't, so it was his duty to take the stand.

When Saturday came and went, he found himself in Germany and could only hope Belle wouldn't see his absence as another denial. After Saturday, however, things got a little too hectic for him to rightly notice the passage of time. Some distant corner of his mind, though, remained reserved for counting down the seconds until he saw her once more.

If it was the last thing he did, he'd pluck up the courage to finally ask her out the moment his eyes set on her again. He wouldn't wait another minute.

No more wasting time.

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**(A/N):** Hope you enjoyed. Part three is complete and will be posted in a day or so.


	3. Part Three: The Retreat

**Embraceable You**

_Part Three: The Retreat_

When Saturday came and went and Steve never showed up for lunch, Bella knew she'd well and truly scared him off.

She supposed it had only been a matter of time before someone like him realized what a waste of his time she was… So stupid of her, she berated herself, asking him out like that. Why in the world would someone like _him_ be interested in a mousy little nobody like her? She should've known better, but had thought just maybe…

Everyone at The Diner assumed Steve was sweet on her. She'd always denied that there was anything more than friendship between them, though had never outright said she was opposed to something more, either. After all, who wouldn't want something more with the man? He was so damned perfect it made her eyes water to look at him sometimes - like when looking at the brilliance of the sun for too long. Each time she came out of the kitchen and saw him sitting there, his always polite smile widening into a grin when he spotted her (one a tad too big and actually made him look a bit goofy), her heart skipped a beat.

But he must've just been being polite. If Steve was anything, it was unfailingly polite.

It was one of the many things she liked about him.

A traitorous tear escaped her burning eyes, and Bella's hand darted up to slap it away in annoyance before she then reached out and snatched up the TV remote to turn something on. It was Monday now and she knew she was wallowing, had been all weekend, but with the prospect of returning to work tomorrow and knowing Steve wouldn't be there - probably wouldn't be there ever again - made her chest ache.

She'd ruined everything. She shouldn't have asked him out - should've just been satisfied with his friendship instead of wanting for more. Now she'd scared him away and she didn't even have her friend anymore.

Perhaps she was being a bit dramatic, but she couldn't help it. Her feelings for Steve had snuck up on her with all the subtlety of a frying pan to the face and she just wasn't good at handling emotions. Not since Edward.

It was part of the reason she'd fled from Forks. That, and Victoria, naturally.

When the Cullens had left her, Bella had been beyond devastated. Edward had been her first love and had burned her hollow inside and out. She couldn't eat, sleep, or think without him around. For months, she felt like a puppet unable to support herself without his presence to guide her and it took her longer than she was proud to admit before the unhealthiness of that analogy really resonated within her.

Bit by bit, though, she'd pulled the frayed strands of her life back and braided them together. Not for Charlie, as Edward had bid her to do - but for herself. Because she deserved better than how she was treating herself. Deserved better than how he'd treated her.

It took some time, but eventually a peculiar gratefulness that they'd abandoned her began to grow. Sure, they could've been better about _how_ they'd gone about it, but with their absence, Bella was able to see much more clearly. She had loved Edward dearly, but he hadn't been good for her.

Maybe she hadn't been good for him, either.

It wasn't long after that realization began creeping up that she'd stumbled over a loose floorboard in her room, discovering all her missing things beneath. The keepsakes - the photos, the CD, that stupid diamond he'd foisted upon her that she'd never wanted... As she sifted through them, she'd had an epiphany of sorts. As she held the items in shaking hands, she knew with a surety that bordered on clairvoyance, that he'd left them there because he had lied. He _did_ love her. He loved her and had left anyway. He'd said all those horrible things to make it easier for him, instead of respecting her enough to tell her the truth: that he was scared. He'd gotten scared and had decided to run away, just like he had after their first meeting; just like they had with James and his coven. Just like he'd probably always do when faced with an obstacle that required any amount of effort to overcome.

What little affection that lingered for him had turned to dust. He had loved her - maybe even still did - but he hadn't loved her enough and he certainly didn't respect her at all. And Bella knew now what she should've known all along. She couldn't be with a man who didn't respect her.

It was a lesson hard learned, but one she would never forget. She wanted someone who could stand tall at her side; someone who would meet the obstacles life threw at them head on and never back down. Never back down because it was the right thing to do, even if it wasn't the easiest thing to do.

She began to flourish again after those realizations. She visited Jake down on the Res, but only occasionally as he grew distant after getting sucked into a new circle of friends. She hardly took it personally since life was like that sometimes, pulling everyone in different directions, and they hadn't ever been that close to begin with.

Instead, Bella spent her time with Angela, who helped her get caught up on her studies. Eventually they'd graduated and everyone started moving away, going off to college or jumping straight into full-time jobs. Bella had hovered over her future, entirely uncertain of what she wanted to do now that she was free to pick her own path.

The world had been full of possibilities and she was excited for them… Until Victoria arrived.

It was the only thing she still harbored any anger or resentment at Edward for... She'd forgiven him his cowardice - for leaving her the way he had and for lying. She'd even forgiven his family for abandoning her - someone they'd called friend, sister, and a daughter, respectively - without so much as a wave goodbye.

But not following up on Victoria? That was unforgivable. Not because it placed her life in danger, but because it endangered everyone else around her. After all, what could one little human do to stop a vampire hellbent on destroying her life in some sort of elaborate misplaced revenge plot?

_Run_. It was all she could do and Victoria was happy to let her do it.

"I do so love a good chase," she'd taunted, her claw-like fingers stroking down Bella's neck. "I'll even give you a headstart… One Mississippi… Two Mississippi…"

Bella had gotten the hell out of Forks faster than a cat on a hot tin roof and had been running ever since.

Maybe it was for the best, then, that Steve had shot her down. What had she been thinking anyway, inviting him out like that? It was only a matter of time before Victoria got bored with her little game and the last thing Bella wanted was some innocent bystander paying the price for her past mistakes.

She'd have to be more careful, she resolved. Maybe it was even time to move again. She thought New York was a good place to settle down - it was so populated and people rarely paid attention to anyone outside their own social bubble - but she'd stayed there far longer than she should have.

Damn, she was tired of running, though, and meeting Steve had made her want to finally stop and stand still. He made her feel like time _could_ stand still and for a moment, she'd seen him as her finish line. For a moment, she'd felt like she'd been running towards something, and not from. Shame it wasn't meant to be, but it was for the best. His best, at least.

Even so, he seemed a bit lonely to her at times, a bit sad even, and she'd felt a connection to him that had resonated within her far more than anything else ever had before him. But it looked like he was was going to be nothing more than a _shoulda, coulda, woulda_ on an already mile long list of things that just wasn't meant to be for her.

In the background, the TV droned on - something about Iron Man and a confrontation in Germany, before turning to talks of Captain America who apparently was still a thing somehow. When had she missed that? Bella only half listened, lost in her own thoughts, but when she caught a snippet of how he'd been frozen for decades and only recently reappeared, she couldn't help but give the screen a curious glance.

The shot they had of him was terrible, clearly taken in the middle of a fight as the only thing you could really make out was a blurry but impressive build garbed in red, white, and blue. Her heart gave a pang of sympathy for the man. It couldn't have been easy falling asleep in one decade and waking up in another entirely - losing everything in what essentially amounted to a blink of an eye. They had a small clip of the fight in Germany and she had to admit he was rather impressive. He moved with the confidence and strength of any vampire she'd ever met.

He certainly looked like he could live up to the few old war stories her Pop Pop had told her. Pop Pop had always been tight lipped about his military history, but he had admitted to seeing America's first superhero in action with his own eyes a time or two. Just as soon as he'd admit that, though, he'd change the subject and Pop Pop had so many good stories to tell that it was easy to forget what they'd been talking about before.

The news served only as a small distraction now, though, and eventually Bella lost interest and went back to thoughts of Steve, what might've been, and running once more.

When Tuesday came and he didn't show again, Bella decided it was time. There was no use waiting or pushing it off any longer. She resolved to give her notice to Frank on Thursday, pack up her meager belongings, and hit the road. There was nothing left for her in Brooklyn.

"Now, now dear," Mrs. Nowak told her when she'd caught Bella staring at Steve's empty booth during her shift on Tuesday. "Give the boy a bit of time. Men need things spelled out for them more often than not, you know."

Mr. Nowak had grumbled under his breath, but when he looked at Bella, he softened. "We want the strawberry today," he ordered, eyes squinting in a smile.

She smiled back even while blinking away tears. She was going to miss the old couple. Other than Steve, they'd been her only friends, really.

Though she knew leaving was the right choice, it still stung as Bella hopped on a bus to NYC the following morning. She couldn't help feeling Steve's absence even more profoundly on what could've been their first date. Even if she wished he had felt something more for her, she certainly never blamed him that he didn't. It never changed the fact that he was still her friend and she missed her friend something fierce. She hoped he'd find happiness in his future, even if it couldn't be with her. Something to chase away that glitter of sadness sometimes lingering around the corner of his eye.

Sitting on the bus, she wanted nothing more than to go back home and finish up her packing, maybe eat some cookie dough and cry a little. But she'd made a commitment when she'd started volunteering at the library. She had to let them know today would be her last day so they could make preparations for the weeks following.

Passing Stark Tower, she caught a glint of red and gold flying through the air, but pushed it from her mind as soon as she arrived at her stop the next block over.

She had enough to worry about without adding superheroes to the list.

* * *

**(A/N):** Thanks again for coming by... I appreciate all your comments. Last part will be loaded in a day or two. For those wondering, _Alight_ will be updated either before that, or immediately after.


	4. Part Four: The Embrace

**Embraceable You**

_Part Four: The Embrace_

Using his shield, Steve batted away another explosive and drop kicked the Chitauri soldier that rose up to meet him.

"How's the perimeter situation?" he barked, and Tony instantly replied, "Not so hot, Captain - NYPD set up a three mile radius block, but these guys are popping up faster than barflies hearing last call."

"Wh-what? What does that even mean?" he gasped, throwing his shield at a building and watching as it ricocheted off it to hit another flying craft that'd been heading straight towards Barton.

When it sailed back to him he caught it with the ease of one catching a frisbee.

"It means the boys in blue are barely containing them, but for each one we take out, ten more seem to take its place, and there's a lot of civilians caught in between us and them," Natasha clarified.

At least someone else on the team spoke English, Steve thought.

"You might want to head towards the library," Clint called out. From his vantage point he'd been directing them towards pockets of civilians who were being overrun by the Chitauri while also keeping an eye out for Loki.

"Maybe they're looking to join storytime," Tony chirped as he flew past, launching a series of small missiles and clearing a path for him and Romanoff.

_The library_, Steve's mind stalled to a halt. _Storytime at the library_.

"What day is it?" he snapped, already running towards the library.

"Random much," Tony snipped.

"Someone tell me what day it is," Steve damn near spat out between gritted teeth. He pushed himself faster.

His heart was thudding so loud he almost missed Clint's answer. The past few days were a blur of activity, but somehow, he knew what his response was going to be regardless. It was just his luck.

Sure enough, Clint said, "It's a balmy Wednesday afternoon, Cap, partly cloudy with a twenty-four percent chance of rain this evening."

"I've got the library. Find Loki, get the scepter - we have to close the portal before we're entirely overrun," he ordered, jumping up onto a car, then leaping from vehicle to vehicle.

"Piece of cake," Barton snorted, but they all knew Steve was right.

Though he supposed saying it out loud rather was like stating the obvious.

Maybe she wouldn't be there. Maybe - and he hated himself for even hoping such a thing - but maybe she had been too discouraged from his earlier gaff and had decided to stay home. Because if she was home, she might be sad, but she would be _safe and alive_ for Steve to try and fix that. He didn't want to consider the alternative.

Yes, he told himself, and maybe pigs could fly now, too. Bella was far too polite to shirk off her commitments just because Steve had been an idiot and had accidentally hurt her feelings. It was one of the things he liked best about her - her politeness. He'd come to realize what a rare commodity it was in that day and age.

When he rounded the corner, he spotted the entrance to the library. The doors had been crushed in and there was debris everywhere. He took the steps four at a time up and entered, pausing briefly in the main hall while tilting his head and listening.

There was the chittering of the Chitauri soldiers sweeping the building, the low crying of people - several of which sounded like children - hidden somewhere in a closed room. Safe for the moment, he determined.

And then rising up from in between the shelves, her voice caught his keen ears.

"Sh-h… It's gonna be okay, sweetheart. Just close your eyes and stay behind me. I've got you."

Her words was surprisingly steady, only wavering ever so slightly at the end.

Then there was a crash of furniture, a pained grunt, and the whimper of a scared child.

Steve was off like a gun, his feet thudding and adrenaline pumping as he rounded a corner until he finally saw her - his Belle. But she was not alone. A tall, red-headed woman stood just in front of her and between them, a group of Chitauri soldiers at their feet - dead.

Relief hit him hard until he took a moment to truly process the scene in front of him. The Chitauri were not just dead; they'd been completely torn apart. Limbs had been shredded and body parts strewn everywhere. The next thing that registered was Belle's expression. She stood protectively in front of a small girl clutching at her legs, her wide eyes staring at the woman. The look of terror on her face damn near stopped his heart. Her hands pressed the child even more tightly to her than before, and her chin quivered as she said, "Victoria," in a tone filled with far more fear and dread than it had been just a moment ago.

"Hello Bella," the woman simpered. Despite her tone being sweet and baby-like, it grated on Steve's mind like a rusty nail to a chalkboard. "Quite the sticky situation you've found yourself in, isn't it?"

"Couldn't resist stepping in and saving me?" Belle - Bella? - asked. "I'm touched."

"Think nothing of it, love," the woman airily said, tossing her hair over her shoulder. "It was purely selfish of me, you understand. We both know your miserable existence will only end when _I_ allow it."

"Let the child go," Belle demanded. "I'm done running, Victoria. You can do whatever you want with me. Just let me bring her to the others so she'll be safe…"

"Oh?" Victoria cocked her head to the side. "But maybe I want a little snack before I get to the main course."

"Over my dead body," Belle hissed, her weight shifting as though she was about to launch herself at the woman.

"If you insist," Victoria returned, taking a predatory step forward.

Steve reacted without a thought. While he knew there was something deeper in the undercurrent of their conversation, he still had seen enough to know the basic truth. This woman had destroyed the Chitauri soldiers only so that _she_ could be the one to attack his Belle. She was a threat and had to be neutralized. Throwing his shield with enough force to knock out any typical person, he watched as it caught the woman in the stomach and tossed her back a few paces.

But she only fell to a knee, unnerving him more than he was willing to admit. He filed that fact away for later and moved to stand between her and Belle, his body serving as a literal human shield between them.

"I'd apologize for attacking a woman, but something tells me you're no lady," he said, widening his stance in preparation for her to strike.

The woman hissed and rose to her feet, uninjured and not even winded from the hit. When her eyes focused on him, he noted they were red. Blood red.

Then they flicked up over his shoulder, presumably looking at Belle as she said, "Looks like you live to see another day, little Bella. Something tells me the game is going to be a lot more interesting now. Tick-tock, love."

Then she disappeared in a blur of movement.

He waited, his mind whirling as he catalogued several facts all at once: Belle was safe, for now; Belle was being hunted; she was being hunted by an enhanced individual; this individual wanted to kill her - had clearly made a game of it. The danger had passed for the moment, but was hardly over.

Behind him, the little girl sneezed and the sound had him spinning around, his eyes flying around the area for any immediate threats. When he realized what had happened, he stood there dumbly, his gaze flickering around until he summoned his courage and met Belle's eyes.

She swallowed. "Steve?" she asked softly, looking him up and down.

Stupid cowl didn't do anything to hide his identity - not that Fury'd be able to keep him out of the limelight now that'd he'd been seen gallivanting across the globe, anyway.

"Belle," he acknowledged. There was no sense in lying to her when she already knew - and certainly not when he'd been determined to tell her the truth at the first available opportunity, anyway. He just hadn't pictured it being exactly like this.

"I think we have a lot to talk about," she said, her lips quirking in that self-deprecating almost smile she always had when she was nervous or embarrassed.

Warmth flooded him at the familiar gesture. Even sweaty, covered in dust, and her long hair a tangled web around her, she was still so damned beautiful it struck him dumb.

"Yes," he finally said, realizing he'd been staring. Again. "Yes, I think we do."

"Ummm, Cap? Don't wanna be rude or anything, but we could use a hand out here…" Romanoff's voice crackled through the radio.

Damn. He'd forgotten about the radio.

Shaking himself, he turned to Belle. "Let's get you both to safety - you will be safe, won't you?"

She knew exactly what he was really asking. "She won't be back," she assured him, bending down and picking up the little girl as she led them to the back of the library. "I don't think she'd have interfered at all had these _things_ not shown up and attacked."

"Are you sure?" he pressed, unwilling to leave her safety up to chance. They came to a door and Belle reached out, jolting him into movement. His hand beat hers by a couple seconds and he opened it for her. A large group of people startled before sighs of relief were heard. They were crammed tightly together like sardines in a can in what appeared to be a supply closet.

"It's him," he heard a few whispers. "It's Captain America."

Belle ignored them, handing off the girl to a very appreciative, sobbing mother. "You heard what she said," she murmured, turning away from the others and looking up at him from under her lashes. "She plans to drag it out - she's very dramatic."

_We both know your miserable existence will only end when _**_I _**_allow it._

Steve's teeth clenched. Even though he knew the rest of the team needed him, that he still had a job to do, he took a quick moment to step closer to her - closer than they'd ever been before - and brought a tentative hand up to her face. "It's gonna be okay now, Belle," he reassured her. "You know that right? You're not alone anymore. I can help you."

Her head moved into his hand for the briefest of moments before she seemed to shake herself. She leaned back ever so slightly, grabbing his hand with both hers as she told him, "We'll talk later."

"Later," he agreed, a vow he would not let the likes of Loki keep him from fulfilling.

He went to pull away, but her grip tightened and he stepped towards her again. "Please," she whispered. "Please be careful."

Inhaling deeply, he closed his eyes and pressed his forehead to hers. "_You_ be careful," he returned. "Wait here for me. As soon as it's over - I'll be back."

He moved away again, but just before he could close the door, she called out, "Oh, and Steve?"

His hand rested on the doorknob as he turned back again.

"Nice uniform," she grinned, a friendly but slightly teasing curve of her lips he was well used to by now.

His mouth opened and closed. When he heard a faint snicker over the radio, his cheeks heated to the point one could have fried an egg on his face.

But Belle was smiling at him. She was safe and she had promised him later. She wanted to see him again later.

Nothing could've stopped the big, goofy grin that spread across his face.

"Thank you, ma'am," he nodded, giving a quick salute before jogging away, her laugh trailing after him.

He trotted over to his upside down shield and stomped on the edge of it, flipping it up into the air and catching it with perfect ease.

"So are we just gonna ignore the fact that Cap apparently ditched the fight to go visit his girlfriend? Because I'm cool if we are, I just want us all on the same page," Tony drawled.

He sighed. He was never going to hear the end of this.

Later, after the dust of the battle settled and he convinced Tony that - no thank you, he really didn't want to try shawarma right now, but maybe next time - Steve made his way back to the library.

Belle was sitting alone on the steps, and a part of him he hadn't even realized was still tense, eased at the sight of her.

"Mind if I join you?" he called up to her.

She smiled, eyes roving over him and looking inordinately relieved. "I was worried you'd forgotten about me."

"I could never," he reassured her. "I just got a little held up."

"It's been a busy day," she acknowledged, startlingly calm. She rose, walking down to him, but stopped on the bottom step. Even with the extra height, she still had to look up to meet his eyes. "We have a lot to talk about, don't we?"

"We do," he agreed. Deciding to belatedly take Mr. Nowak's advice, he added, "Maybe over a milkshake?"

He was rewarded with a breathtaking smile. "Strawberry?" she lifted a brow.

He grinned. Unable to keep from touching her one moment longer, he at last placed his arms around her, pulling her into his arms. "Whatever you like. I'm not picky," he assured her.

His heart thudded as she lifted her arms over his shoulders and rested her head against his chest, her fingers lightly grazing the hair at the nape of his neck.

Content, they both stood like that for a few moments, each of them reveling in the presence of the other. They were safe. Despite everything that had happened, they were together and they were safe. That was all that mattered for the moment.

"Steve?" she whispered into his chest.

"Yes?" he asked, bending his head down to lightly nuzzle her hair. He wasn't willing to pull away just yet. If he had it his way he'd never let her go again.

"Remember how I told you my Pop Pop served in WWII?" she asked.

He snorted lightly, pressing his lips into her hair. "Yes."

"Do you think you knew him?" she asked, a teasing lilt to the question that made him smile even if she was poking fun at him.

"You're going to tease me about this for a while, aren't you?" he asked, feeling almost elated at the prospect.

"Probably."

Everything was going to be okay, he suddenly realized. Belle wasn't going to run from him and he sure as hell wasn't letting go of her any time soon. Probably not ever. They had a lot to talk about, but he was in it till the end of the line and he was starting to suspect she was as well.

_Told ya you could do it, ya putz_, Bucky's voice chastised him.

"I doubt I knew your grandpa, Belle," he shook his head with a little laugh, both at her and himself. The relief that they were finally together was so strong he felt nearly drunk on her presence alone.

"Pop Pop," she corrected. "He was a bit repetitive with his names - said he had to hear it twice in order for it to sink in. He was no Dum Dum even if he acted like one, though."

Steve blinked, his entire being freezing. There was no way, he told himself. It was a coincidence, nothing more. But then again, he hadn't yet been able to bring himself to peruse the files Fury had given him regarding his fellow Howling Commandos...

"Steve?" Belle broke the silence again.

He cleared his throat, stuttering a breath as he tightened his arms around her. "Yes?" he responded, his voice a tad higher than usual.

"You totally knew my Pop Pop, didn't you?"

The tension broke and Steve laughed, pulling just far enough back to look down at her. "Now that you mention it, I think I may have, Belle."

"Bella," she corrected softly, her eyes flinching in the slightest show of guilt.

She had nothing to feel guilty for, though. Not with him.

"Bella," he offered, his smile never wavering.

Eyeing him a moment to gauge his sincerity, Bella's shoulders slumped in apparent relief and she smiled even as she melted in his arms once more. Her head burrowed against his chest so tightly he was positive she could hear how she made his heart race and skip a beat. Even a week earlier and he would have found that to be embarrassing, but he couldn't bring himself to find it so anymore. If anything, it was a relief not having to hide how she made him feel.

"I think I'm ready for that milkshake now," she murmured, though she made no move to pull away.

"Me too," he said, pulling her even tighter to him.

Time seemed to stand still for them in that moment as they stood content in their sweet embrace.

* * *

**(A/N):** Thanks for reading. This is now complete.

For anyone interested, _Set My Soul Alight_ (my other Twilight/Avengers) will be updated in a couple days - I'm editing it now, but have a head cold so it's slow going, lol.


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